


everything is legal in new jersey

by rillrill



Series: Revolutionary Whore [11]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Blindfolds, Gangbang, Group Sex, Literally Zero Plot, M/M, Sex Crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 06:21:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5857462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rillrill/pseuds/rillrill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He doesn’t want to think about this at all. He wants, for one goddamned night, to turn off his brain and his impulse control (frayed and unreliable as it already is) entirely. He wants, simply, to be had.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>The revolutionaries throw Alexander a bachelor party. It goes about as you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	everything is legal in new jersey

It began as a jest.  
  
At least that’s what Alexander tells himself as Laurens slowly winds his black silk scarf around his eyes, tying it tightly enough to effectively block out the already dim light of the pub’s back room. It’s just a little tavern in New Jersey — where, it seems, anything truly goes — with a barkeep all too eager to lend a hand to the Revolution. Alexander can’t imagine that Laurens was eager to share the truth about their plans for the night. He’s certain the room must have been locked down under the auspices of a meeting place for strategy talks. He’s fine with that illusion.  
  
“How’s that?” Laurens asks, adjusting the scarf’s tight knot once more. He adjusts Alexander’s hair, where it’s caught against his face, and kisses him once, almost chastely, on the lips.  
  
Alexander blinks against the blindfold. He truly cannot see anything. “Blind as a bat,” he answers truthfully, and he hears a snicker.  
  
“How do you plan to know who’s fucking you?” Mulligan asks, and Alexander lifts a shoulder in a half shrug. He hasn’t exactly thought about this. There is plenty about this situation, it occurs to him dimly, that perhaps he has not exactly thought through. But —  
  
He doesn’t want to think. There’s the rub, that’s the crux of it. When Laurens pressed lips to his jaw and asked what he wanted, more than anything, as a pre-wedding present, a gentleman’s celebration of his final nights as a bachelor — perhaps it was the hand on his cock or the few shots of whiskey that provoked such honesty, but the words came out in an avalanche of uncomfortable truth: _all of you, I want all of you, Lafayette and Mulligan and you all at once_. And Laurens had smiled sideways, bitten down on Alexander’s jaw and produced a bright, keening whine, and whispered that perhaps it could be arranged.  
  
He doesn’t want to think about this at all. He wants, for one goddamned night, to turn off his brain and his impulse control (frayed and unreliable as it already is) entirely. He wants, simply, to be _had_.  
  
“I suppose I’ll have to guess,” Alexander finally answers, and he hears Laurens suck in a breath as his hands descend on Alexander’s shoulders, pulling off his jacket. His shirt and boots follow. It’s warm in the room, thank goodness, where he’s seated atop the thick wood table, and he allows someone — Laurens, perhaps? — to press him down to lie on his back in the middle.  
  
“Right, then,” says Laurens. “Should I? Or do you all want to just — have at him?”  
  
Two more pairs of hands are on him, one of them undoing his breeches and the other pulling his undershirt up and over his head. Alexander takes a deep breath and feels the stirring in his cock become a more persistent interest, lifting his hips obediently as large hands — Mulligan’s, they’ve got to be Mulligan’s — tug his breeches and underthings down in one go.  
  
“You should have left his hair loose,” Lafayette observes, almost dispassionately. “I so enjoy to pull it, in the, ah — in the throes, I think, is how you say it.”  
  
Laurens laughs. “We’re not gonna keep that blindfold on all night. Are we, Alex?”  
  
Alexander licks his lips and shakes his head. “I — well, whatever you want,” he answers, and there’s a hoot of laughter from the other three.  
  
“You have him well trained,” Mulligan says, and there’s a smack of him and Laurens slapping five. And then there’s a hand on his cock, and lips on his, and Alexander gasps briefly before he adjusts and relaxes into it.  
  
It’s Laurens, it’s clearly Laurens. These lips are familiar, the hand too practiced. “You look so beautiful, darling girl,” he murmurs into Alexander’s mouth, stroking him with a grip too light to provide much more than a teasing hint of friction. “All laid out on the table for us to use, like a parlor game. Back in South Carolina, it’s in bad taste now to throw a party without sending the guests home with a favor.” The hand gets a little tighter, the strokes a little faster, and Alexander sucks in a breath as Laurens licks obscenely into his mouth, seemingly as punctuation. “It’s so much like you, Alexander, to be your own party favor. My beautiful, artful little _slut_.”  
  
It doesn’t sound like an insult, when Laurens says it. Or, at least, it doesn’t feel like one, as Alexander blushes warm all over. He gasps again as he feels Laurens’ hand drift a little further down, trailing over his balls, the pads of two fingertips barely brushing the sensitive skin there. “I’m not just yours,” he says, almost laughing, giddy with sensation as Laurens circles his entrance with one delicate finger. Teasing, barely pressing down, tracing light circles around him. “I belong to the Revolution now, isn’t that the bargain we all made? The glory, the fight, all that?”  
  
“Hamilton, you’re starting to talk nonsense,” Mulligan says, and claps his hands down on Alexander’s shoulders, pressing him down against the table as Laurens’ finger leaves him. It’s only a moment before Laurens returns, however, his finger now slick and pressing in a little harder in earnest. Alexander relaxes under Mulligan’s large hands, relaxes all of his muscles, allows Laurens to begin to open him up as he hears the slick sounds of kissing above him. _Mulligan and Lafayette_ , he presumes, and his presumption is proven correct as soon as he hears a soft exhale and a murmured _“Merde_.”  
  
Laurens pushes a second finger inside him, and Alexander inhales at the stretch — it’s been a few weeks since he’s been properly fucked, but now the overwhelming desire, the need to be filled is all he can focus on. He arches his back, pushing up against the table, and grits his teeth as he mumbles, “More, please, I need—”  
  
“Manners, pretty girl,” Laurens says in a smirking, smug tone, coupled with a soft slap to Alexander’s inner thigh.  
  
“ _Please_ ,” Alexander emphasizes, yielding easily as Laurens presses a third finger into him and curls them all just so, and then he’s moaning, louder than he spoke, letting the stretch and burn fade to a pleasurable fullness. Mulligan and Lafayette are still kissing somewhere above him, perhaps more, judging from Lafayette’s breathy little gasps, but he can barely pay attention to the sounds emanating from above his head when Laurens is beginning to fuck him in earnest with those beautiful, elegant fingers, brushing against his prostate and sending sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine each time, his cock unbearably, achingly hard —  
  
And then they’re gone, all three of them, and he feels suddenly very empty as Laurens pulls his hand away. “Lafayette, would you like to do the honors?”  
  
“With pleasure,” Lafayette purrs, and he feels a stirring of air, hears muffled footsteps, a switch of position. Funny, how the blindfold heightens all his senses — he supposes it makes sense, back in Nevis, the blind were rumored to have certain powers, another kind of sight. It never quite made sense, but he swears he can see and feel as Lafayette strips, feels the disturbances in the air over all his bare skin, and then there’s another set of large hands on his thighs, pulling him down the table and adjusting the way he’s laid out, spreading his knees wider, bringing him right to the very edge.  
  
“Fuck,” Lafayette says, almost a growl in his heavily accented English, and Alexander’s heart is very nearly pounding out of his chest with the anticipation. He’s breathing heavily as Lafayette’s slick, heavy cock nudges against his entrance, and then he’s pressing inside, and there are lips on his again, and suddenly the sensation is —  
  
It’s exactly what he wanted. It’s just a little too much, in the best way. It knocks him just a little bit sideways, a little further out of his head. He wants more. He craves it, craves it like he craves money, power, freedom, like everything he’s ever chased is right down this strange little path right here. Laurens’ lips are full and warm against his and Alexander feels as thought he could drown in this feeling, kissing Laurens for hours as Lafayette fucks into him in one long, slow, unbroken motion. Laurens is holding him in place with a hand on each roughly stubbled cheek, kissing him upside down, he realizes, their noses tip-to-tip on opposite sides as Laurens leans over the other end of the table.  
  
“Oh, _baise-moi_ ,” Lafayette says again when he’s seated inside Alexander, and Alexander groans inarticulately against Laurens’ lips, a signal of all-clear. And his meaning seems to be obvious, because then Lafayette begins to move, and nobody is touching his cock, but his erection hasn’t flagged a bit since Laurens began to stroke him off. He wonders, for a moment, whether he might touch himself, but as he begins to move his hand down in the direction of his nether region, there’s a laugh and another big hand smacks it down to the table.  
  
“Nice try, Alex,” says Mulligan smugly, rubbing along Alexander’s wrist, almost tenderly, keeping it pinned to the tabletop as he leans in close to whisper in his ear. “Are we gonna have to tie you up?”  
  
“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” Alexander answers automatically, and he feels Lafayette’s hips snap involuntarily forward and hears another _oh fuck_ for his trouble as Mulligan bites and sucks at his neck and collarbone, hands roaming over his chest. His own hips are bucking against Lafayette’s thrusts, his cock bouncing up against his stomach with every beat. He wants —  
  
He wants three specific things, at this particular point in time.  
  
One, he wants a cock in his mouth. Any of them will do, though he’s partial to Laurens’; has come to savor his thick, heavy taste, finds it familiar, almost comfortable. He needs a cock in his mouth, one in his hand, all three of them taking him, using his body.  
  
Two, he wants Lafayette to fuck him harder, for Christ’s sake, even groans out a _Harder_ against Laurens’ mouth, coming away with bitten lips for his trouble, but Lafayette seems to understand. He picks up the pace, his hips slamming against Alexander’s, hard and unrelenting, and Alexander loves this, has always been so intimately aware of what Lafayette is capable of but has never experienced it in a fashion quite so overwhelming. He can feel all of Lafayette inside him, long and thick, and Lafayette’s hands are heavy where they’re gripping his thighs a little too tightly, holding him in place just so.  
  
Three, he wants to be able to _see_. The blindfold is perfect but it’s almost disappointing; the soldier in him is almost in panic that he is no longer perfectly aware of his surroundings. But Lafayette sends him no signs of slowing down, and then Laurens pulls away and his mouth is left empty, his lips untouched.  
  
“You look so desperate,” Laurens teases him, and fuck, he must, laid out on display with Lafayette fucking him at a rapid clip. He feels his face warm over at the mental image, and opens his mouth to retort but is suddenly met by a cock slapping at his lips, hard and heavy. And — ah, yes, there it is, it must be Laurens. Alexander licks at the head and he hears three separate moans go around the room, as if he’s sucking them all off, as if he’s connected to all of them, and then he opens his mouth to take more of it in and allows his head to fall back against the table and loll to the side, giving Laurens better leverage.  
  
It’s bordering on sensory overload, Lafayette still fucking him gallantly in long strokes and muttering to himself in French, the English translations for what he’s feeling having evidently left him entirely, and now Laurens’ cock in his mouth. There’s so much to focus on, and Alexander summons all his strength and energy to pay attention to what is right in front of him, leaving all thoughts of his own aching, painfully hard cock elsewhere.  
  
Laurens begins to thrust into his mouth half in time with Lafayette’s strokes, and his hands fist in what he can grab of Alexander’s hair on either side of the scarf. Alexander moans, soft and choked, and gags a little as Laurens thrusts harder, but he knows he can take it. Lafayette is speeding up, though, and it’s only a couple seconds more before Alexander tightens himself around him, prompting a loud string of swearing —  
  
Lafayette’s fingers dig even harder into Alexander’s thighs as he comes, and Alexander’s instinct is to thank him, but Laurens is fucking his mouth in earnest now, and all he can do is wait.  
  
“Hold on,” Mulligan says, “give me a second, Laurens. Don’t wear him out yet.” Alexander flushes and opens his mouth obediently, but Mulligan, instead, helps him shift position, pushes him onto hands and knees, legs spread wide and his body low to the table. There’s a crack as Mulligan smacks him, quite hard, across the ass, and Alexander shudders as the wave of pleasure rolls through him, jolting him down to his core.  
  
And then Mulligan is pressing into him, slick with a combination of oil and Lafayette's come still inside him. Alexander's body yields easily around the new intrusion, but it's different, just a bit shorter but with a thicker girth, and he can feel every centimeter of difference. He's never done this with Mulligan, has only heard his copious stories of women bedded secondhand, but then Mulligan begins to thrust into him and Alexander chokes out a whine, hands scrabbling for purchase on the table to keep himself in place.  
  
“You feel so good,” Mulligan pants, breathless, as he starts to work up a steady rhythm, “I can feel Lafayette’s come in you —”  
  
Alexander groans at this. “Thank you,” he says, automatically accepting the compliment, and then grits his teeth at the sound of his own voice, deep and fucked. He pushes himself back harder on Mulligan, desperate for _more_.  
  
Laurens' hands are back on either side of his face, holding him in place, restraining him. He flexes against the pressure there, testing his ease of movement, but Laurens holds him down easily, barely exerting himself and Alexander can't bite back a smile. Mulligan's pace quickens, hips snapping against his own in an almost punishing rhythm.  
  
He opens his mouth again, desperate to be filled from both ends again. Laurens must notice, for he laughs and guides Alexander back to his cock. "You're so hungry, baby girl," he laughs. "My pretty little slut has to be filled up, doesn't he? God, what would your _wife_ think?"  
  
The question hits him like a rifle blast, chills him to the marrow. His wife-to-be is the last person he wants to think of in this moment. But if Laurens is aware of what he has done, he doesn't seem it, just pushes Alexander's head further down on his cock and resumes fucking his mouth in time with Mulligan, hands tight in his hair, yanking sharp gasps of pain and pleasure out of him. It's messy, he knows he's being sloppy, gags every so often when Laurens hits the back of his throat, but the wetness and the tears pricking at his eyes behind the blindfold only serve to heighten the experience. He is helpless, truly, two cocks inside him and a third having just come within him.  
  
There’s a sharp knock at the door, and Alexander whips his head in the direction of the sound, adrenaline rising as his heart hammers in his chest. It _can't_ be, they _wouldn't_. Alexander feels the hope and shock rise within him as he hears Lafayette unlock the door. And then —  
  
“Monsieur Burr,” he sneers. “My God. What brings you here?”  
  
"I thought it might be an interesting diversion," comes Burr's voice, and Alexander's muscles all tense at once, a peculiar mix of shame and titillation flooding his system. He lifts his own hand to rip off the blindfold, and no one stops him, leaving him blinking in the low light of the back room, staring directly at Burr, in navy velvet, well-kept and somber as ever. Alexander’s skin tightens, his cheeks and chest burning hot. He wants to curl in upon himself, feels far too exposed out here on all fours on the table, with Mulligan and Laurens still poised to enter him again.  
  
Lafayette heaves a sigh. "Alexander, do you want him to stay?" he asks, shifting his weight expectantly. He has not bothered to dress again, even after finishing, Alexander notices.  
  
"It's up to you," Laurens says quietly, a hint of jealousy coming to his voice. And Alexander is torn for a moment, genuinely uncertain, but the shift of Burr's jaw and the way he's looking straight into Alexander's eyes is too much, the interest too clear and present and obvious, and so — so is the answer.  
  
"I permit it," Alexander says weakly, his voice coming out crackly from his dry mouth. "Yes, he can stay."  
  
He feels Mulligan palming his ass again, and arches his back instinctively in response. "Excellent," Mulligan says. "I always did like an audience." And then he pushes back inside Alexander, a long smooth glide, and Alexander presses his palms flat across the table and allows Laurens to guide him back onto his cock, this time with eyes open, fully present of every minute aspect of the situation.  
  
It is more intense this way, nearing sensory overload. He can see everything and nothing at the same time, catches flashes and glimpses of Lafayette leaning lazily against the wall as he dresses and Burr observing with lust-hazed fascination. But then his entire world is Laurens and Laurens' cock and the few inches spanning his groin up to his lower stomach, the tan skin there a familiar horizon. He uses this to center him, relaxes all of his muscles and simply lets Mulligan fuck him onto Laurens' cock, and then vice versa, back and forth, unpracticed and inelegant and somehow perfect.  
  
Laurens comes first. Alexander can sense it before it happens, and his instinct is to pull away, but Laurens keeps his fist tight in his hair, and then there's a burst of bitter wetness in his mouth as he comes, and Alexander swallows obediently as Laurens pulls out, looking nearly winded, his freckled cheeks pink with arousal and exertion alike. He hears Mulligan grit out an Oh, fuck of his own, and then he's coming as well, and Alexander goes nearly limp on the table as Mulligan fucks him all the way through it, only pulling away when he's finally spent.  
  
Cheek to the table, still barely holding himself up on all fours, all Alexander can concentrate on is the burn in his muscles, the way he's shaking from the exertion of holding back for the past half hour. The room is thick with the smell of sweat and sex and Alexander feels filthy, used and despicable with Lafayette and Mulligan’s releases still co-mingling inside him and his cock still achingly, desperately hard. Burr is seated elegantly at Lafayette’s left, his arms folded across his chest but his eyes hungry on Alexander, betraying his indifference.  
  
“You won’t tell anyone,” Alexander says to him weakly, “what you’ve seen.” His grammar is that of a question, but the words come out flatly, a command. He almost has to laugh at himself. He is hardly in a position to be giving out commands.  
  
Burr rises gracefully from his seat and strides to the table, bending down to ghost his lips over Alexander’s. He does not seem to stir the air when he walks, his manner as delicate and measured as the rest of him. Laurens is still rubbing his hand over the small of Alexander’s back protectively as Burr reaches the table. He feels himself inhale sharply as Burr bites down on his bottom lip, pulling away, but not letting go until the very last second. He’s stroking Alexander’s hair, seemingly doesn’t mind the sweat and tangles, and he feels himself beginning to relax into this. A softer hand is almost a relief after all he’s been through tonight. But still, he is ever aware of Burr’s presence in the room, the heavy chill it has on the mood, and as he pulls back from the kiss, Alexander asks, “What are you really doing here?”  
  
“I didn’t want to miss a party,” he says calmly. As though that explains it. Burr, as always, gives nothing away.  
  
Alexander is exhausted, he wants nothing more than to come and fall asleep; he wishes he’d had the foresight to do this in a bed rather than in the backroom of a tavern in godforsaken New Jersey. “Mr. Burr, sir,” he murmurs into the next kiss, his voice taking on a nearly pleading tone, “will you fuck me?”  
  
Burr looks as though the question catches him off-guard. “I came to observe,” he begins, but Lafayette raises both eyebrows and chortles.  
  
“Ah, of course,” Lafayette says. “You are not _brave_ enough to partake. I see.”  
  
Alexander sees the shift in Burr’s jaw, the flare of his nostrils, but he remains calm anyhow. “Bravery has nothing to do with it, my friend,” he says. “I feel as though Alexander has been spoiled tonight.”  
  
“It’s his wedding present,” Laurens says. “From all of us. One last night of freedom—”  
  
“I see,” Burr says, a smile playing around the edges of his lips. “He’s certainly been freed, I’ll give him that—”  
  
“Burr, please,” Alexander says weakly. “Fuck me or don’t, but don’t hem and haw over it for ages. I need to come, sir, I need—”  
  
“Fuck him, Burr,” Mulligan says decisively from the sidelines, where Lafayette has moved to straddle his lap. “I think we’d all enjoy the visual.”  
  
“Fuck him,” Lafayette echoes as he twists around to stare Burr down defiantly. “Go on.”  
  
Alexander feels Laurens’ hand grow a little warmer, a little slick with sweat, on the small of his back, and he presses up into it as he looks up at Burr expectantly. “Don’t let us down,” he says, somehow finding the energy to taunt him even through the fatigue in his muscles. He wants to come, more than anything; he does not have the wherewithal to beg. “You think you’re better than us, or something, Burr?”  
  
Burr raises both eyebrows. “Let the record show I’ve not been convinced by this rhetoric,” he says, as he slowly unbuttons his jacket, shaking it out carefully before laying it out over a chair. “This is my own personal choice, made freely on my own behalf—”  
  
“Shut the fuck up, Burr,” Lafayette groans as he pushes himself up off Mulligan’s lap. “Fuck him before we all go mad.”  
  
Buzzing with triumph, Alexander can’t help laughing as Laurens pushes him onto his back. “Someone should take care of him while Burr fucks him,” Laurens says, laying a hand on his hip, and Alexander arches up off the table as he watches Burr undress, calmly and unemotionally. Mulligan and Lafayette both go for his cock, Mulligan putting a possessive hand over the base as Lafayette bends down to lick at the head, and then Laurens is kissing Alexander roughly on the mouth.  
  
Alexander winds his exhausted legs obediently around Burr’s narrow waist, and then Burr is pushing into him, meeting little resistance and filling him up in one single, hot thrust. It’s perfect, Burr’s cock is perfect, and there’s so much happening, Laurens sucking on his neck, nipping and biting at the pulse point that always makes his cock jump. Mulligan and Lafayette are lazily kissing around his cock, tonguing it up and down between kisses as if his pleasure has fallen secondary to their own interests.  
  
He closes his eyes, his head lolling back against the table. Burr’s thrusts are coming at a quick, even pace, and Laurens is sucking bruises into his collarbone and occasionally ghosting up to pepper soft kisses along his lips and jaw, and then someone, he’s not certain which of the two, takes his cock into their mouth and everything else falls by the wayside. It’s all he can focus on, the wet heat and soft lips stretched around him, and Burr fucking him faster, and Laurens biting his lower lip —  
  
It’s perfect. This, Alexander realizes, is bliss; he has always commanded attention, always craved the spotlight, but has never felt glory until now, being kissed and licked and fucked from all sides. It feels as if they’re inside of him, pressing on nerve endings he didn’t even know he had. He feels, in this moment, as if he could transcend. He senses that he's crying, somehow, can feel his eyes shining with tears, streaming slowly from his eyes without his consent. This has never happened before. This sensation and emotion have swept over him like a tidal wave and he has no hope of keeping his head above the water. All he can do is let go, cede control of his mind and body alike. Float with the swell. Let the riptide carry him out to sea.  
  
Laurens licks into his mouth, bites down hard on his lip, and Burr thrusts hard into him, and Alexander comes, helpless, caught between all of them, the favorite, the star.  
  
Alexander vaguely registers Burr gasping and coming inside him. He barely thinks it matters. He’s lost track of who is touching him anymore, hands and lips and soft caresses all over, and he can’t imagine how he’ll get home or where he’ll sleep tonight. He’s sore as hell, groans as Burr pulls out of him, but the pain barely registers as well. He has always had a tolerance for sensations that would make weaker men flinch. The come inside him feels like a trophy. Something he has earned. Another sensation that he craves.  
  
“Good boy,” someone says as they press a kiss to the shell of his ear, and the daze settles on him like a seaside fog. He thinks that perhaps, if the British burnt this tavern to the ground tonight, it would be worth it, going out well-fucked and well-adored.


End file.
